A Cry From the Dark
by Cantica10
Summary: Tamaki, a successful pediatrician, is assigned a new patient with certain issues. The girl needs medical attention and human comfort, and Tamaki is more than ready and willing to provide... if she'll let him close to her. A tale of overcoming human cruelty and learning to find love amidst the terrible memories of a dark past.


Hi, guys! It's me, Cantica10, formerly The Phantom Alchemist. Whether you're new to my stories or returning to read this new one, I extend a hearty welcome to you all! As some of you may know, I finished my Ouran story a few months ago (Diary of a Reluctant Rich Girl) and I presented you all with the prospect of another Tamaki x Samayu fanfiction. This is it! As for those of you curious as to the state of my book… it's getting there. I'm also writing another novel and hope to get both published when I finish with them.

This story is AU… sort of. Most of the characters are still rich, though not all, and I've warped their ages and professions a bit. The essence is still there, however, and so I give to you the first part in this story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran or any of its characters.

"A Cry From the Dark"

Tamaki made a mental note to stock up on "girlier" Band-Aids, having just endured a near-temper tantrum from one of his patients whose needle pinprick "wounds" from three different vaccinations had been insufficiently covered by an assortment of cartoon characters. While they were certainly meant to be appealing to children, they were by no means girly. But then, Tamaki didn't begrudge the child too much – the poor girl _had_ just gotten three shots, and she was terrified of needles.

Pediatrics was a draining profession, but too rewarding for him to regret. Children had such unique ways of regarding the world, and he was often graced with their amusing opinions. Oh, to be five years old again, when the world was a playground and the biggest worry you had was being presented with cartoon character Band-Aids when all you wanted were ones bearing flowers!

Tamaki hated administering injections to small children because it made him the bad guy, and no offering of tootsie pops or brightly colored Band-Aids could change the fact that, while it was for their own good, he had still hurt them. It was easily his least favorite part of the job, aside from being presented with a child too sick for him to help and being forced to pass them along to a specialist with the knowledge that they still might not get better.

That obstinate little girl had been his last patient before his lunch break, and Tamaki gladly retreated to the staff lunchroom to indulge in food, his stomach having been complaining at him all morning, twisting in protest of emptiness as a punishment for skipping breakfast. But what could he have done? He was on-call, and a frantic new mother had called him into work early to look at her four-month old son, who was running a fever.

The only other two in the room were a couple of anesthesiology residents, a pair of remarkably identical twins that couldn't be told apart save for the nametags attached to their jackets and the way they parted their hair. They had taken quite a liking to Tamaki within their first week at the hospital, as he was the closest to them in age (he was 28, the youngest licensed doctor at the hospital) and had developed a strange habit of referring to him as "Boss," or, more frequently, "Milord." Tamaki didn't quite understand the title, but he didn't see any harm in it. In all honesty, it was somewhat flattering.

"Hikaru, Kaoru," he greeted them both, joining them at the room's only table with his Tupperware of spaghetti. "How are things with Dr. Nekozawa?"

"The guy's a total freak," Hikaru stated flatly, rolling his tawny eyes. "Brilliant and everything, but a freak."

Tamaki couldn't argue with that. Dr. Nekozawa was head anesthesiologist at the hospital and was overseeing the twins' residencies. He had a strange fascination with death, pain, and cats. Tamaki had stopped letting the man anywhere near the younger patients weeks ago, calling upon admittedly less experienced but much less frightening doctors to administer anesthesiology to the children going into surgery.

"He's started muttering about curses when he thinks no one is listening," Kaoru reported, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head and a hopeless shrug of his shoulders. "And something about a Berezenoff, if I heard him right. Maybe he's found some new demon to worship; I don't know. I honestly wouldn't put him past Satanism at this point. Either way, I wouldn't recommend getting on his bad side."

"Duly noted," Tamaki said seriously. He didn't doubt the power of curses, and the thought of being on the receiving end of one was slightly mortifying. "How was your morning?"

"Slow," Hikaru sighed. "One old lady going in for a hip replacement and a high school jock getting surgery on his ACL."

"Personally, I prefer it slow," Tamaki confided, twirling a few strands of spaghetti around his fork. "It means less people sick or injured."

"So noble, Milord," Kaoru teased, shoving his chair away from the table and casting his twin a meaningful glance. "Let's go. We're pushing it with time and I don't want to get cursed for something as stupid as getting back to work a few minutes late."

"Fine," Hikaru mumbled, standing up with minimal enthusiasm. "See you later, Boss."

"Good luck," Tamaki bade them, and while their departure left him slightly lonely it gave him ample time to enjoy lunch before he had to be back to work, taking walk-in patients as they came.

Nothing out of the ordinary occurred until later in the afternoon when Kyoya, Tamaki's best friend and an internist at the hospital, paged him with the request to meet him in examination room twelve, not one of Tamaki's typical offices. He was at once intrigued, and since he had no patients he obliged Kyoya's request with a curiosity attached.

Exam room twelve seemed to be some sort of gathering place, and when Tamaki saw a uniformed police officer among the throng he grew uneasy. Police officers showed up with abuse victims more often than not, and it always broke Tamaki's heart to witness the result of human cruelty. Kyoya was there of course, discussing something intently with a bespectacled woman, and Tamaki recognized Renge, a nosy yet ultimately goodhearted hospital receptionist, and Dr. Kasanoda, one of the hospital's psychiatrists, among the crowd.

Tamaki went immediately to Kyoya, confused and slightly sick to his stomach. The atmosphere hanging around the hall outside of the exam room was heavy and laden with a tense sort of sadness that seemed to permeate the very air. "What's going on?!" Tamaki demanded of his friend, glancing at the closed door of the exam room. "What's happened?"

"They've brought in a girl who's very scared," Kyoya reported brusquely. He didn't seem to have any emotional investment in such an occurrence at all. In contrast, just to hear those words made Tamaki's chest ache. He listened to the rest of his friend's explanation while grimacing. "From what Officer Satoshi tells me, they found the girl locked inside a closet in the basement of a house. They're not sure for how long. They found her after the police paid a visit, tipped off by a neighbor who was certain the men who lived there were dealing massive amounts of drugs. And drugs in massive amounts _were_ found – as well as the girl. She was completely naked and showing obvious signs of physical abuse. I'm sure there's no question as to what she was being held for."

Tamaki resisted the urge to gag, growing paler by the second as he imagined what sort of state the poor girl inside the room must be in. The woman with the glasses called Tamaki's attention by extending her hand to him in greeting. "Ayame Jonochi," she introduced herself as Tamaki took her hand and shook it. "I'm the social worker who's been assigned to Jane Doe's case."

Jane Doe. Tamaki hated it; it had no heartbeat. The name was soulless. It meant they didn't know who the girl was – even worse, it meant that she may not even know who she was. If the girl was awake, that was the only feasible explanation Tamaki could rationalize for her not giving up her name. "I'm Dr. Suoh," he introduced himself in turn. "I would say it's nice to meet you, but under the circumstances that would a cruel lie."

"I completely understand," Miss Jonochi sighed.

Tamaki looked inquisitively at Kyoya, and then back at the social worker in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand why you've called me here. If it's an examination for the girl you're after I can assure you that Dr. Ootori is highly capable."

"I don't doubt Dr. Ootori's skill, but he admitted after only a minute with the girl that a pediatrician might be better suited to handle the situation. He specifically recommended you."

Tamaki could understand that, at least. Pediatricians dealt with frightened, sometimes even hysterical patients on a daily basis. And Tamaki had always greatly prided himself on his skill with children and keen ability to calm their trepidations when faced with the prospect of a doctor's visit. "How old is she?"

"We can only guess, unfortunately. Late teens, we think, maybe early twenties. It's impossible to know without an identity." Miss Jonochi sighed again and held her head. "I won't try to make this sound simple. The girl will not be an easy patient."

"Maybe so, but there's no avoiding it," Tamaki said firmly. This was one of the reasons he'd chosen to pursue a career as a doctor – to help people. A childish sounding desire at face value, but it was what ultimately drove him onward. He wasn't going to be prevented from helping the poor girl in the exam room simply because she was going to be a difficult patient.

Miss Jonochi opened the door to the exam room and beckoned Tamaki inside. Preparing himself for the worst, he went in. Almost immediately, it became clear to him that this was nothing he could have prepared for.

The girl was a tiny, skeletal thing with skin so pale her complexion was more ghost than human. She had a mess of brunette hair hanging in impossible tangles, spilling around her thin shoulders and cascading over her face. Standing, Tamaki could rationalize that jungle of brown tangles would hang just past her waist. She was thin – far too thin. Not quite skin and bones, but close. Her small body was covered in dark purple and faintly blue blotches, mingled with faded and puckered white scars, a patchwork of marks that clearly proved she was a victim of abuse.

And then Tamaki saw her eyes, and the earth beneath his feet suddenly seemed infirm. Those iridescent green orbs destabilized his reality. All he could see in them was fear and nothing else. Her eyes were so betraying, so _human_, that he felt a surge of rage coursing through him to consider that someone had _hurt_ this poor girl.

She was curled up in one of the chairs rather than seated on the exam table, and Tamaki could clearly see why Kyoya had recommended a pediatrician just to observe her countenance. She was trembling violently and tugging fitfully at the thin hospital gown she wore as if she wanted to be rid of it but couldn't figure out how to get it off. Her eyes darted about in panic, and as she caught sight of Tamaki she gasped and curled up and shrank as far back into her chair as she could as her shudders grew noticeably in strength as she buried her face in her hands and tried hiding behind her bony knees.

"She doesn't talk," Miss Jonochi revealed. "She hasn't made as much as a whimper since she was found a few hours ago. We thought she might be deaf at first, but she's very sensitive to noise. Dr. Kasanoda said it's selective at best, a way of protesting since she's so frightened… but he also thinks there's a possibility that she's _afraid_ to make any noise; trained to be silent, if she was in that house suffering abuse for an extensive amount of time."

Tamaki grimaced to imagine the extent of human cruelty, staring contemplatively at the girl as he ran a hand through his yellow hair. This would be difficult, but he did have at least one idea. "Give me a moment," he bid, slipping back out of the exam room into the hall and finding Renge amidst those that remained lingering outside the door. He called her name, drawing her attention away from her failing attempts at flirting with Kyoya and towards him. He beckoned to her with a finger. "I need you to do me a favor."

"Is she okay?!" Renge inquired in concern as she rushed up to him. For all her irritating quirks and her habit of sticking her nose in other peoples' business, she did truly care about the patients that came and went.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, but she's in obvious need of medical care," Tamaki pressed, drawing her back to the task at hand. "I was wondering if you could fetch me a basket from one of the pediatric rooms. It would be a huge help."

Renge snapped to it immediately, calling back to him even as she went, "Absolutely! I'll be right back!" God bless her eagerness to help, Tamaki thought as he went back inside the room, where the girl was still curled into a ball with her face hidden. Miss Jonochi stood on the opposite end of the room, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched the poor child.

Tamaki took a deep breath and went to the girl, making his footsteps deliberately loud to let her know he was approaching. _Here we go_… He knelt down next to her chair a slowly extended an arm until he could lightly rest his hand on her knee.

He certainly got her attention, though he wasn't sure that was a good thing. She jolted and tried to scramble backwards away from his touch, but the furthest she got was digging her shoulders into the chair's back and staring at Tamaki with wide eyes full of panic as her breaths came short and ragged.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, don't do that," he pleaded calmly, using what he deemed his "pediatrician's voice." He was as gentle and soothing as he could be, trying to exert a quiet confidence. "My name is Tamaki. You don't have to be scared of me."

But she still wouldn't calm, tears pooling in her magnificent green eyes as she shook with what he could only assume were silent sobs. What had this poor girl been through? He'd dealt with plenty of tears before, but they'd always been accompanied by wails and protests. This girl remained utterly silent, refusing nothing but obviously not happy about any of it. Had that been a learned behavior? If being silent had been trained into her, could it be that putting up with everything, even if she was terrified out of her mind, was also a learned behavior?

"Okay," Tamaki said gently, standing up and backing away from the trembling girl in an effort to give her a bit of space as she adjusted to his presence. "Okay. I can see we're going to have to try something else." With a heavy sigh, he opened the door again and peered into the hall, searching for Renge. He could only pray his idea would work.

She was just turning the corner and scurrying up the hall, cradling a basket in her arms. Her pace quickened when she saw Tamaki waiting for her, and as she came to a stop in front of him and held out the basket in offering, Renge sheepishly admitted, "I stopped by a few different rooms and compiled everything I thought a girl might like into one basket."

_Yep, _really_ need to stock up on girlier Band-Aids_… Tamaki shook himself out of his mental note and focused on his plan, relieving Renge of the basket with gratitude in his expression. "Thank you, Renge. It's a big help."

"What's your plan? I haven't heard any wails yet… Should I take that as a good sign?" Range asked tentatively, curiously eyeing the door.

"Her social worker has just informed me that she doesn't speak, but I don't think she _can't_. She's just scared and confused. I think a few distractions might help; hence, the basket."

"Oh! That is a good idea," Renge agreed with a nod of her head. "Is there anything else you need? Just say the word!"

Tamaki was going to wave her away, insisting all was well, but then he hesitated. The girl would be difficult to examine from the start, but there was one particular bit in particular Tamaki knew she most definitely wouldn't cooperate for, if he could get her to cooperate at all. As much as he hated to admit it, the girl would need some form of calming drug; Ativan, he decided. There were a few tablets locked in the exam room cupboard for special cases, and if this didn't constitute a special case he didn't know what did.

"Actually, yes, Renge. Do you think you could run down to the cafeteria and bring up a cup of applesauce? I'm afraid I'm going to have to medicate the girl for anxiety…" he trailed off, despising the very thought – even if it was definitely necessary.

"I understand," Renge said knowingly, and Tamaki was grateful for her compliance. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

As she turned, Tamaki abruptly added, "When you do, don't come in. Knock on the door – lightly as you can – and I'll come get it. I just don't want to overwhelm the girl with any more strangers than absolutely necessary today."

He expected her to protest; after all, she had the most curious nature of anyone he'd ever met. But to his surprise, she agreed and left.

Tamaki slipped back into the exam room and the girl looked up as she heard the door click shut. Tears flooded her eyes at once, and he could see her about to get worked up again. Quickly and fluidly, he set the basket down on the chair next to her and pleaded softly, "No, honey, please don't do that. Here – look what I've got for you."

She sniffled and watched as he flipped open the basket and reached into it. He had no idea what Renge had collected, but was pleasantly surprised when the first thing he grasped was a stuffed animal. Usually those were reserved for really little kids in for a round of school vaccinations, but this girl needed some extra comfort. He smiled reassuringly and held out the brown and white toy horse to the girl in offering. She stared at it with wide, curious eyes, her fingers twitching a bit, but she made no attempt to take it from him.

"It's okay," Tamaki urged her as she looked up at him with that piercing green gaze. The uncertainty in those eyes made his heart lurch. Had no one shown her any kindness in her life? Had she never received a gift? "It's for you. You can take it."

It took a long minute and a few more gentle words before the girl lifted her trembling hands and she gingerly wrapped her fingers around the small horse, holding it outstretched for a moment before she seemed to realize that no one had any intention to take it away from her. With a sudden quick motion she hugged it close to her chest, burying her face in the stuffed animal's mane and sighing almost contentedly.

"There you go, little one." Tamaki smiled to see her green eyes regarding him curiously over the stuffed animal, as though she couldn't quite figure out what he was. It was a huge improvement over her state a few minutes ago, and Tamaki felt it was safe to approach her again.

He went to her side cautiously, careful not to alarm her. Her eyes never left him, watching with guarded suspicion as he covered one of her hands with his and asked softly, "Will you stand up and come with me, little one?"

Terror flickered in her eyes, and he had no doubt she'd understood him and knew what was to come. She shrank back into the chair and with hesitation in every motion, slowly shook her head.

The communication was jarring; the girl had only translated her distress with trembles and tears up to this point. But it was communication nonetheless, and that was encouraging enough for Tamaki to press gently, "It's alright. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you… nobody's going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

She trembled and her body tensed. Tamaki feared another onslaught of miserable tears, and she opened her mouth briefly as though she wanted to say something before she got a look of terror on her face and clasped her lips together tight. She stared at Tamaki in fear, as though she was expecting to be punished.

"If you want to tell me something, you can," Tamaki urged, idly rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. She had very small, delicate hands. "I'll listen to whatever you want to say." Smiling comfortingly, he added, "I'm a very good listener."

She appeared to contemplate this for a moment before shaking her head again ever so slightly. Tamaki sighed and shut his eyes for a brief moment. _What_ kind of a life had this poor child been living…? Opening his eyes again to regard her fearful expression, he asked again in a quiet voice, "Will you stand up and come with me, sweetheart?"

He could hear her swallowing a lump in her throat, and while she still looked terrified she gradually unraveled her limbs, placing her feet on the floor and lifting herself up on unsteady legs. Tamaki held his arm behind her back, not making contact but ensuring he would catch her if she were to fall. The steps she took towards the examination table were small and tentative, and when she reached it she stared miserably up at Tamaki, clearly telling him she didn't want anything to do with it. Her grip on the stuffed horse tightened.

"I won't take it away. It's your horse," Tamaki reassured her, though her grip did not loosen. Perhaps she didn't believe him, or perhaps she was relying on the toy for comfort. Tears were welling up in her eyes again. "I won't hurt you. I promise," he repeated, trying to sooth her rampant nerves. "Can you get on the table for me?"

But she remained rooted where she stood, a look of expectance on her face amidst the fear. Tamaki bit the inside of his cheek and looked around the room until his eyes met Miss Jonochi's, asking her for permission with an inquisitive look. The woman gave him a single nod of her head.

Tamaki leaned down a bit so he was at eye level with the girl. Her green eyes were on his, and Tamaki felt like she was seeing into his soul. "I'm going to lift you up onto the table now, all right?" She gave him no response, and with a deep breath and a prayer that he wouldn't frighten her, Tamaki slowly reached out and placed his hands on her sides, just above her hips. Her felt what few muscles she had tense beneath his touch. He could feel the outline of each of her ribs. Exhaling on a sigh, Tamaki lifted her up and set her down on the table so she sat with her skinny legs hanging over the edge. The girl began to tremble again and buried her face in the stuffed horse's fur.

Tamaki, sympathy for the child festering in his heart, slowly reached into the pocket of his white coat and withdrew his stethoscope, praying that this girl would be alright and that she would let him help her.

* * *

Okay! What do you guys think? I'm enjoying myself so far. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to put this out there because it's kind of dark, but I enjoy the writing and I missed the characters of Ouran. I'm in the midst of several other stories, however, and I just started college a little while ago, so updates may be infrequent, but at least this is out there for your enjoyment. Now that I've said that, though, I do hope that you'll review! Reviews just give me so much energy and enthusiasm to keep writing!

Believe it or not, I have been doing a considerable amount of writing lately, just in moderation. I'm updating this between classes (Chemistry and Choir). And now I'm off to print out an essay that's due today!

Thanks for reading, all!

Cantica, out!


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